I feel endlessly inspired. The rain is pouring, and I can see waves of water washing over city wires. It doesn’t seem dangerous—rather, it’s beautiful. The inspiration I’ve been missing for the past seven

Strategy is in the rhythm, the rhythm understood through millennia, not nightly, not morningly. Eggs appear on soft ground. From eggs come the eyes. When eyes grow legs enough, eyes consume the egg. Beat

Hey everyone, this is my first post here. I wrote this poem a little while ago and excited to share! Not As It Seems Yapesty is woven by the same grey thread, Colored in. Colors change at a moment’s notice.